Dog Days ft. Muja Messiah Lyrics

I got a piece of ramen noodles

Stuck in my teeth and shit

We gotta get our bread up man

Tell me about it my nigga

I'm miss the good ol' days

I'm tired of this shit

I used to just stand on Franklin Franklin and Nicollet

I'm going to Amazon man

I'm going to get a job at Amazon

Shout out Bam man

He used to hold me down

Tiger Jack Selby and Dale

Dog days are summer days

I'm just trying to come up

But the money

Keep running for me

I saved up all winter

Full-time dealer

Till the plug

Started fronting on me

Got a hundred on whatever

But he don't ever pick up

Guess he ain't fucking with me

I thought I was that nigga

Never did consider that

I was just an average MC

Now in my hustler days

I used to chase the bag

Back then there was no Uber

All we had was taxi cabs

Before Apple

We had beepers

On our hips hitting licks

Always got taxed

Unless I grabbed thirty six

Back when I was a freshman

Crack was a profession

I was selling grams

NBA jams and wrestling

On the come up

Trying to come up

In the camel clutch

Slanging zips like an atheist

And fiends we trust

Now when I think of digi scales

I picture them with resin

Sometimes I use the triple beam

Depends on what I'm getting

Cause I can't stand no limits Lines instead of digits

But the accuracy on the digi's

Is way better for the business

I weigh them to the tenths

And shave a little where I can

And pass it to the soldiers

But don't do no hand to hand

Because my nigga

I swear that I just saw the police

And I'm trying to

Duck they cell

Dog days of summer

I'm just trying to come up

But the money

Keep running from me

I saved up all winter

I'm a full time dealer

Till the plug

Started fronting on me

Got a hundred on whatever

But he don't ever pick up

Guess he ain't fucking with me

I thought I was that nigga

Never did consider

That I was just an average MC

I be rhyming for OG's in prison

Who grew up with no daddy

Blood in the kitchen

White girl threw up in the caddy

Eighty for a gram

Fucking half or grand

Catch me in the hood

Soon as the plane land

I'm in a three piece suit

Eating miso soup

But Lil Birdy told me

Homie we gon' eat this food

Paper chase and perform like I was born from another land

Counting cash like

I'm deformed with another hand

Now here we go again

Down with hope

And up with dope again

Police be watching him

Helping him get closer to the pen

And Broadway

We was getting in no bullshit

Shooting plenty men

No ho shit

Talking to these bitches

Trying to penetrate

They fortress like

My dear my dear my dear

You do not know how easy

That pussy will sell

If you just give it to me

Let me show you

How much of a pimp I am

We can make a mint

Damn I wish

Somebody pay my rent

In these motherfucking

Dog days of summer

I'm just trying to come up

But the money

Keep running for me

I saved up for a winner

Full time dealer

Till the plug

Started fronting on me

Got a hundred or whatever

But he don't ever pick up

Guess he ain't fucking with me

I thought I was that nigga

Never did consider that I was just an average MC